


the bruised evening sky

by darcychick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, lucifer with scruff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4468022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcychick/pseuds/darcychick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer will leave soon and Sam Winchester will say yes before all that, though, Y/N wants one last night with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the bruised evening sky

**Author's Note:**

> read at my tumblr for optimum viewing pleasure (gifs) : http://darcy-chick.tumblr.com/post/125471475471/can-i-get-a-request-of-scruffy-lucifer-like-how

She still didn’t know why Lucifer had suddenly decided to grow a beard, she assumed it was probably to cover the growing sores and burns marring his skin. It had been strange at first to feel the hair under her fingertips, against her cheek and beneath her lips, but she had got used to it.

When he had first appeared that way, heavy stubble over his cheeks, she had traced her fingers across the grey stubble under his cheekbones, highlighting the age of Nick’s vessel before Lucifer had taken him or maybe the grief and stress the widowed father of one dead child had to endure.

She took delight in the hair on Lucifer’s vessel, relished the downy feel of chest hair under her palm as she slid it across his chest, the tickle of hairs under her thigh as she hooked her leg across his, sleepily, after a rough fuck or a gentle lovemaking .

She often let her fingernails graze through the groomed hair dusted thickly around the base of his cock as she sucked the plump head into her sticky gloss painted lips.

She adored the way his body hair was a darker gold than the hair on his head, stroking across the expanse of his broad chest with darkly painted fingernails catching on hardened nipples. She cherished his kisses, despite how different they felt now, the soft rasp of stubble under her lips as they kissed deep, the tip of his nose brushing against her cheek.

She often let her hands drift across his body, ghosting over the soft golden hair that dusted his stomach, tracing over the thick white scar where Nick had had his appendix removed. 

She luxuriated in the rough scrape of it across her thighs as he licked and sucked across the sensitive skin, the sultry heat of his talented tongue making her squirm. She even liked silly things like the way it caught on the lace panties she wore for him, and only him.

On a singularly sweltering Southern afternoon, they took her rusted truck and drove. 

He could have taken them wherever in the blink of an eye but instead he leaned back in the passenger seat, watching her slim wrists and creased brows navigate across the winding roads, flicking the radio on and letting Julie London croon about crippling loneliness, the words catching and drifting out into the fevered atmosphere.

She drove far across long, dry roads that left dust clouds looming behind them, rising high in the torrid summer air.

She drove far enough that it was dark when they finally stopped, far enough that the Apocalypse didn’t even matter, it wouldn’t matter here in the still and quiet of the harsh and barren wilderness.

They sat in the open back of the truck on an old quilt from some relative, the grooves of the rusted metal bed still pressing through the thick, musty fabric. Her laced up boots clunking against the hollow metal as they leant against the side of the vehicle. They watched the stars glare in sharp relief against the bruised evening sky. The air was crisp and fresh enough that it almost hurt to breathe, or maybe that was just her.

The slow river, thick with algae drifted by lazily, the full moon reflecting in clearer patches, in all her incandescent glory. It was easy to pretend that this could be her forever at that moment. That he could be hers forever.

She traced the profile of his face against the night sky, eyes dragging across the set of his brows, the straight line of his nose, the thin curves of his lips. She lifted a hand to his chin and turned his face to hers, leaning in to kiss him, deep and slow. She had her eyes open, caught up in the strange stillness of the night air; she stared at his closed eyelids and pale lashes before letting her own eyes slide closed.

She let herself be wrapped in his big arms as they kissed, drawing the breath out of her lungs until it burned, relishing the pleasurable ache before pulling away. She ghosted her lips across his stubbled cheeks instead, as he whispered sweet nothings in her ears. Except they weren’t nothings because he had her and she had him.

She sighed as his large hands slid up her bare thighs, slipping under her short dress to wrap around her hips. A few seconds later and he was pulling her into his lap, thighs stretched across his hips as warm hands stroked along her flank, pressed into her hips.

It was second nature to grind down against the promising bulge in his jeans, pressing the heat of her wet sex into the rough denim. The air around them was still and silent in anticipation as even the leaves of the rustling trees seemingly paused in their rhythmic movement.

They took their time reaching their respective climaxes, the slow grind of their hips carrying them closer, a sharp slap of his palm against her flesh enough to draw a whine from her throat, the sharp nip of her teeth against his neck dragged a deep groan from him.

No-one was there to see the impassioned and violent arch of her back as she came.

Her loud moans were lost to the night sky, and only Lucifer and the moon were there to hear them as she shouted her pleasure. Her orgasm was deep and soul consuming and just enough to throw him over the edge in a more reserved display of pleasure, compared to her wanton moans, as he panted into the sweat-slick skin of her throat.

When they stilled, she slipped off his lap to rest back down on the rusted and grooved bed of the truck, as their sweat cooled in the night air. He pulled her close, resting their heads on a screwed up jacket, as they breathed their contentment.

It was close now, the time would come when Lucifer would leave her side and join Sam Winchester in a union of body and soul.

“I’ll come back to you,” He murmured, she would have scolded him for listening to her thoughts if she had the energy.

“What if I’m not here?” She asked into the soft fabric of his shirt, breathing in the smoke that saturated Nick’s clothes.

“I’ll find you.” He said simply. That was that.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me @: darcy-chick.tumblr.com
> 
> I always follow back!


End file.
